


Solas Was Ever

by salesman



Series: Overloaded: Solas POV & Other Stories [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, POV Solas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 18:53:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3620562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salesman/pseuds/salesman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was my da'len, and she loved to play games.</p>
<p>
  <span class="small">
    <strong>*WARNING*</strong>
  </span>
  <br/>
  <span class="small">
    <em>This is Overloaded's <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/3487133/chapters/7980498">Chapter 33: Anna Was Never</a> from the point of view of Solas. So read that first, if you haven't already :)</em>
  </span>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solas Was Ever

Anna was aggressively pushing me now, shoving me back into the wooden seat. “Sit _tight_ , hahren,” she whispered into my ear. I would have liked to do anything but remain in this place. I had always loathed this tavern. The smell of it, the uncleanliness (the shemlen were blissfully unaware of the stains my superior eyesight could discern), the food that was barely passable, and above all things, the company. Every patron congregated here seemed intent on forgetting the real problems of his life, the real problems of his world.

But I understood Anna’s intent for bringing me to such a place. She was so persistent in trying to rehabilitate me.

And in that tenacity, she constantly dwelled around me, sitting on the sofa of my study or knocking on the door to my quarters. I rarely even spoke to her during these times, yet she would sit there for hours, reading or chatting one-sidedly or sometimes only sleeping. I had obviously made it clear that I wished for solitude, but she gave me no such respite. And now that she had frequented my presence so often, a room felt empty in her absence. She had become attached, and I was reciprocating. It was a problem.

And here I now sat, drinking mediocre wine in a place that I abhorred, solely for her benefit. I can only imagine how Falon’Din would mock me.

Anna was different from any human I had ever encountered. It seemed she was completely free of all prejudice of race, class, or nationality. This was an unusual mindset, although I knew her to be of another realm. A fact that both fascinated and frightened me, as the implications of a place outside of Thedas _and_ the Fade was a whole new wealth of knowledge that I had never come across. It was excitingly compelling, yet also disquieting. But Anna seemed harmless, and rather more than harmless, but actually compassionate, astute, and impossibly optimistic. It was rare for me to meet spirits such as her, and I wondered if her home consisted of only these types of beings. Perhaps such a place could make an acceptable neoteric Elvhenan. I wished to travel there myself, but Anna knew not of how to return.

But above all other things that astonished me about her, the most prominent was her determination to be around _me_. At first I thought it merely her fascination with Fen’Harel, the legendary god who destroyed the People. But it was clear she truly cared for me, tirelessly trying to lighten my mood ever since I had removed the slave markings from Inquisitor Lavellan’s beautiful face...

It was unforgivable how long I had allowed myself to be with Gurlll, yet Anna believed the opposite. She was resolute in reuniting us, but failing to see that the relationship was hopeless from its conception. It would only end in tragedy.

This wine was far more tolerable than the repulsive beverage Anna had deemed “pretty good.” I was certain she chose the worst brew specifically for me. It was a marvel that I had taken a second sip of that filth at all, let alone finish the entire glass. But this was partially due to the company at present. The Inquisitor’s Inner Circle were all avoiding me, a result of my recent separation from Gurlll.

Such treatment did not surprise me, as my presence had always been evaded and unwanted in the Inquisition. An elven apostate, a rift mage. They were titles both suspicious and feared. My unfriendly demeanor also did not benefit my position, but that was all my carefully constructed act. In retrospect, the separation from the Inquisitor had actually helped me achieve solitude far more effectively than my facade had alone.

Except, of course, for Anna. She refused desertion and instead saw this as a problem to fix, and so here I sat, drinking wine far too quickly. The effects of the alcohol were taking hold of my body now, the veins beneath my skin made warm. I looked at Anna, who was standing in the center of the tavern now, begging for everyone’s attention.

“Tonight, I will be singing ‘Sera Was Never’...” she said proudly. She always shined brightest when she thought she was doing something clever. The shemlen were delighted with this new development, and I could not help but emulate a small portion of curiosity. She seemed to consistently surprise me.

Anna stumbled on the first few words, unsure of her tone and volume (a usual issue for an unpracticed singer). But as she sang further, it was clear that her confidence continued to build, and also that she was highly intoxicated. She started hopping around the wooden floor, imitating the movements of an archer. It amused me to see her acting this way, as Anna seemed like one of the most uncoordinated humans I had ever met. The thought of her actually shooting was unimaginably perilous.

The tavern was charmed, though, and really, how could they not be? Her smile was infectious, and her enthusiasm inspiring. I was often caught off guard by how easily she could make _me_ smile, despite the careful, cold mask I intentionally and constantly wore. She was a phenomenon in itself.

It was peculiar and bewildering that I called this creature _da’len_ , a title she took such pleasure in, I wondered if she truly wished she were an elf herself, or perhaps she was merely delighted by the idea of Fen’Harel using such a familiar term. It would have certainly been shocking in Arlathan.

Anna’s dancing took a different course suddenly, shedding the archer concept and becoming much more smooth and rhythmic. She raised her hands high above her body, curving her arms in a surprisingly graceful fashion. They slowly moved down her form, accentuating the gentle curves of her figure, while her lower half swayed to and fro.

Her movements became fascinating, captivating, hypnotizing, and I realized I had never actually examined her body before. It was pleasing.

This information alarmed me somewhat, as she was my da’len, and to think of her in any other way was highly disconcerting. But such thoughts could easily be pushed away in my inebriated state, and I told myself that simply observing was never dangerous.

A few times she glanced my way and her eyes looked questioning. Was she seeking my approval? Was she evaluating my melancholy (as she constantly did)? Or was she aware of my sudden attraction to her, and simply confused by it?

She bowed and smiled to her audience, seemingly pleased with her performance. As she returned to the table, I kept my eyes fixed ahead of me, drinking my wine as if no such song was ever sung. I did not need the questions in her eyes to become spoken ones. It would only further complicate our already confusing association. I could tell she was upset by my aloofness, but it was better this way.

The wine was nearly finished, and I resolved to leave the moment the glass was empty. And I nearly was about to stand when her hand brushed against mine, creating an unexpected tension. I still did not look her way. For all I knew, it could be one of her ruses again, attempts to get a reaction out of me. She had already undeservingly won enough of my coin this night, I would not let her take more.

But she was devious, my da’len, and she tenderly touched my hand while the human Commander Rutherford engaged in conversation with her. He called her performance impressive, and it was obvious that he was interested in her. She appeared uncharacteristically shy to the compliment, and I wondered if she returned his sentiment.

What was even more frustratingly peculiar was that she continued to touch my hand, gently pressing little patterns into my skin. “Did you leave anyone behind in Kirkwall?” she asked the Commander. It was a suggestive question, and one that only could be responded in turn with suggestive answers. Was my da’len attracted to this man?

I supposed as they were both human, it was only natural that such an allurement would occur, but Rutherford of all people bothered me. He was a Templar, and quite possibly distrusted me most among the Inner Circle for my magic ability and hedge mage status. Was taking my da’len some attempt to control me? To remove one of the few things I cared about without raising any legal suspicion?

I had no claim over Anna, I knew this. But she was still my da’len, and I would not let her be taken under false pretenses.

Although, upon further thought, it was perfectly sensible for Rutherford to be drawn to Anna, as she was extraordinary in her own way. In fact, it was expected of him to be, for how could anyone ignore her intelligent and effervescent manner? She was a rare spirit indeed.

Anna pulled on my fingers, but I kept them still. Why was she doing this while speaking to the Commander? Did she want me to join into the conversation? Knowing her mischievous nature, it hardly seemed the case. Was she teasing me about my previous captivation with her dancing? Did she want to illustrate how desirable she was by toying with Rutherford? That was unnecessary. She was undoubtedly desirable.

She continued to touch my skin and the tension in my arm was vexing, the muscles tightened by her delicate fingertips. But I was trained in the way of remaining still; I had slept thousands of years without moving. She would need to try harder if she wanted to break me.

“No one in Kirkwall...” Rutherford said lewdly, and I found myself infuriated. My da’len deserved better than this shemlen, who believed in controlling people with force instead of compromising with words. I ripped my hand away in frustration. Why did _I_ have to play this game anymore?

But their conversation soon ended, and Anna turned to me, curious of my response to her little trick. “An impressive performance, indeed,” I told her without waiting for the question. She was a clever girl.

Anna was unprepared for my answer and laughed, trying to circumvent her unease. “You should sing next,” she facetiously suggested. She was ignoring her previous plotting, as if it had never existed. Well, I could play a game, too.

I reached for her arm, pulling her towards me. She nearly fell off her chair from the sudden movement. I lowered my head down to hers, my mouth to her ear, and whispered, “Absolutely not.”

My nose grazed her hair and I drew in the scent. It was deliciously sweet, almost botanical. I allowed myself a quick stroke of the soft skin of her forearm, lightly prickled with goosebumps. I could feel her pulse beating at an excited speed, arousing a similar reaction within myself.

I retreated, satisfied with my ploy. She looked at me, astonishment overcoming her pretty features. _You will never outwit the trickster god, da’len_.

The entire group suddenly left all at once, leaving Anna and I alone. Rutherford was sure to give me a warning look before departure, as if _he_ could ever threaten me. I doubted the shemlen could even make my fingertips tranquil.

The game was over now, and I felt tired from the repugnant beverages and the night of forced social interaction, however minor they had been. Da’len appeared oddly delighted though, as if _she_ had won our game. She quoted me then, although from a memory she should not have had, and then laughed despite my silence. My da’len was singular indeed.

And then she caught my hand, her little fingers intertwining with mine. And for the slightest, smallest moment she _had_ won, because it troubled me how the gesture stilled the muscles in my body, yet roused the beating of my heart.

But it did not overtake me for long, as I stood immediately, bringing Anna with me. “It’s time to go, da’len,” I said. _That’s enough_.

She seemed unwilling, and I had to physically push her forward, sending more unwanted stirrings through my arm. It was imperative this situation soon be ended. I looked forward to the cool night air outside, hoping it would assuage the growing desires within.

**Author's Note:**

> Solas was ever, ever in denial :)


End file.
